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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27265195">If I Should Die Before I Wake, I Pray the Lord my Soul to Take</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowercrown/pseuds/Artemisia'>Artemisia (moonflowercrown)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Derry Girls (TV), Silent Hill (Video Game Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>!This is very dark and gory! Please check the tags if you want to avoid certain topics!, (if there are any missing dont be afraid to let me know), (mention of; doesnt happen) childbirth, Blood, Crossover, Death, Gen, Gore, Knives, Parental Death, Self Harm, Vomit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:08:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27265195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowercrown/pseuds/Artemisia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Opening the door, she was hit with a thick layer of fog, not being able to see more than a few feet in front of her. It was thicker than any fog she'd ever seen, and along with the odd silence that blanketed everything, she felt even worse. (I want to re-iterate here that this fic is very dark and potentially triggering, so if you have any potential issues then check the additional tags for content warnings).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>!!Content tags contain spoilers!! Ignore if you don't need warnings!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Fog</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There will be four chapters. I am posting the next today, the third tomorrow and the final on Saturday. I again would like to re-iterate that this fic is very dark and potentially triggering, so if you have any potential issues then check the additional tags for content warnings.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Stained by the evils of this world, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>we hold our sorrows within us. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Only you can heal us these wounds. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Each morning, afternoon, evening </em>
</p><p>
  <em>and night, we call out your name </em>
</p><p>
  <em>and pray for the day of the </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Miraculous Descent.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Erin awoke, staring up at her ceiling as she usually did, tracing the pattern with her eyes. Refusing to rush, this being the weekend, she let herself lie there for a while. As time went on, however, she began to feel rather odd. Her ears picked up on an eerie silence that she wasn't quite accustomed to. Usually she could hear some noise coming from the kitchen, the drift of idle conversation, bashing and clashing of pots and pans. Now though? None of that to speak of.</p><p>She rose out of bed, dressing in whatever outfit she'd picked the day before. She descended her stairs, more cautiously than usual, and peeked through the door. The room was completely empty, no lights on or anything. She entered, scanning the living area then the kitchen, even peeking into the laundry room - nobody was there. Confused, she returned upstairs, thinking that maybe she got up super early. Slipping back into her room, she checked her clock - it was just past eight. Maybe it was broken? She snuck up to her parents' door, softly opening it and looking in. Their bed was in the centre, neatly made as it would be by this time of day. A pit formed in her stomach as she started to panic.</p><p>Erin turned back and headed out the front door instead. Maybe they were at Aunt Sarah's house? Opening the door, she was hit with a thick layer of fog, not being able to see more than a few feet in front of her. It was thicker than any fog she'd ever seen, and along with the odd silence that blanketed everything, she felt even worse. Heading across, she discovered the door had been left ajar. Upon entering, she found the inside had been rifled through, almost in a hurry. Though, Erin thought, it didn't seem like a robber. Nothing was gone, only displaced. Entering the kitchen, she dared snap on the lights. It didn't seem to change much, they weren't all that bright - though she wasn't often in Aunt Sarah's house, so perhaps it was always like that. She snooped through the kitchen. She paused at a spot on a counter, finding that a knife had disappeared from the holder. That was it. That was all.</p><p>She popped upstairs quickly, sticking her head in every door, but the result was the same - empty. Back in the hallway, she noticed an axe propped up against a wall.</p><p>'<em>Convenient.</em>' she thought, deciding to take it. The lack of people, the fog, the dead quiet, the heavy pit in her stomach - things felt dangerous. She headed back out, deciding to try and find her way to Clare's house next.</p><p>Navigating proved difficult - the thick fog obscured everything. Erin had to fall back on muscle memory, the routes she was used to. Just as she thought she was getting somewhere; a barricade came into view. She'd never seen anything like it before - a chain-link fence, boxes and some planks of wood, all rusting and rotting. She walked its diameter, disappointed in finding no gaps, confused at the presence of new brick walls either side, when she heard a low gurgle from behind her. Turning, she was faced with long, white, fleshy limbs, which extended upwards into a thin, wiry body that ascended above her field of vision. It must have been over ten feet tall and looking up at it made Erin dizzy. It gurgled again, and she felt something brush her back - she jumped forward, watching a limb surround her. Refusing to panic, she lifted her axe, scanning the lumpy, twisted limb that was slowly enclosing her. Not seeing any notable joint, she swung hard at a part on the right. It cut quite heavily, leaving an indent and making it gurgle again, though higher and louder. She aimed for that spot again, slamming down even harder. The limb split, and she dashed through as the creature screamed, the sound fading as she ran back the way she came. She didn't stop until her legs began to hurt. Falling to her knees, she threw her axe aside and began to cry. The world was spinning, and blurry, it felt as if it was collapsing in on her, trapping her in an impenetrable fog.</p><p>It felt like a year had passed before the world found its feet again. Erin sat up, trying to slow her breathing and adjust her eyes. As her senses came back to her, she realised she was aching, every limb hurt, as if they were screaming at her to rest. She didn't, though, grabbing at her axe. As she did so, a stranger approached her from behind.</p><p>"Erin." A deep, but still feminine voice, smooth and clear.</p><p>She turned to see a woman, standing tall and sturdy, a long flowing dress reaching the floor. She was a few feet back, staring directly at her, a soft smile upon her face. She seemed excited for something.</p><p>"Soon, our God shall be reborn. In the place your false deities are honoured, the ritual will come to fruition. You shall bear witness to the dawn of paradise."</p><p>As quickly as she appeared, she faded into the fog again. Erin didn't speak. She couldn't, if anything. She was too perplexed, along with the lump in her throat.</p><p>The woman, despite not being able to see her properly, seemed familiar to her somehow.</p><p> </p><p>□□○○□□</p><p> </p><p>James had taken to watching the stars drift by on difficult nights by now, it almost becoming routine. Of course, the weather didn't always agree with him, but the clouds looked nice too, and the rain made a nice sound. Fog was different though. Fog made everything darker, as dark as things felt when he was by himself. When you can't see, you don't know what other people are doing. When it clears, when the light comes back, they might not be there anymore.</p><p>Bad nights had been more common recently, every night for two weeks having had a significant portion of it dedicated to crying and doing so quietly as to not be found out. Usually, not always, they were tied to some event, be it just a comment that hurt or a whole argument, something had made James upset. Thing is, nothing <em>had</em> happened as of late. If anything, the girls were being nicer to him, even Michelle laying off the insults more than usual. Something was off.</p><p>The fog just amplified that feeling.</p><p>Of course, it came when he decided to take a step further, to sneak out and have a walk, hoping to clear his head for a little longer. It came out of nowhere, fading in rapidly and without warning, like a flash flood. Understanding the sudden lack of sight being a navigation problem, he attempted to retrace his steps, though being deep in thought at the time did not help. Many wrong turns were taken, and at the third brick wall he didn't recognise, he realised that he was completely lost. Maybe just sit and wait until morning? It seemed the best option, and he took it.</p><p>No less than 10 minutes in, a figure seemed to form in the fog. It was vague at first, but as it became more defined, a lifted ponytail of curly hair formed, and James could tell it resembled Michelle. Something felt... off about her, though. She just stood there, not moving. She was facing away from him. It was all so odd. Despite the pit in his stomach, though, he began to approach her. As he did, she moved away from him. He sped up, she sped up. She said nothing. He broke into a run, as did Michelle. She seemed to have a location in mind, taking sharp turns, making James stumble. She kept up the run, James struggling but managing. Eventually they reached her destination and he lost her as she disappeared into the fog. James barely had time to lament as he caught his breath, the force of the air starting to tear through his throat. He took a second to think. Was this even real? None of that seemed right.</p><p>Now that he was there, he decided, he may as well investigate this place. Clearly something wanted him here. He approached, hitting some stairs - wide-set and slightly crooked. At the top were glass double doors. He hesitated before pushing, surprised at them opening smoothly. Entering, he realised he was in a hotel lobby. Weirdly, it was empty, even with a few stray lights on. They dimly glowed, giving him outlines of decorations on the walls, as well as doorways. Scanning them, he stopped on a stairwell with a flickering light. He saw another figure... he looked closely, squinting a little, and figured it was Erin. She stood there, facing him. It was too dim to make out any details, making the whole encounter even creepier.</p><p>With no warning, almost as if she had just spotted him, she turned and ran up the stairs, James in pursuit. Up and up, James got dizzy trying to keep up, but she slammed through doors on the third floor. James followed through but she was gone, leaving him alone in the corridor.</p><p>Not knowing what to do, he just stood there, staring down the hallway. The darkness seemed to grow, the walls beginning to twist as the pit in his stomach grew. There wasn't much noise to focus on either, a blanket of silence layered over his ears. His eyes began to water as he refused to close them, almost unable to. He became aware of how paralysed he was, as the floor started to twist away from him, and he couldn't move - a bang came from behind him and all control came back. Half-falling over, he turned to the source of the sound. Right at the end of the hall, on the corner, led a dagger. Approaching it, he took in the details - the hilt was ornate, white ivory lined with gold. It spread up the blade in delicate swirls, contrasting the silver that came to a near perfect edge. It seemed vaguely familiar to James, but he couldn't quite place it. He hesitated before picking it up but did nonetheless - it might prove useful. Still, it seemed jarring, such a flawless shiny metal against near rotting, dusty floorboards. That was another thing - everything seemed so aged suddenly. The flickering lights, peeling paint, splintered wood... it was as if everything had been left alone for years. James was starting to think that maybe this was a dream. Maybe he'd fallen asleep back home, or maybe on his walk. Maybe he just needed to wake up.</p><p> </p><p>□□○○□□</p><p> </p><p>5am wasn't usually when Michelle woke up, in fact she wondered if she'd ever been awake at this time before. Oddly, she didn't feel tired, despite having only gotten four-or-so hours of sleep. Deciding to humour her body clock, she got up properly, taking her time to pick out a hot outfit, since she had longer to wear it. When she was satisfied, she shoved aside her curtains, expecting to see the beginnings of dawn, instead being met with a thick wall of fog. Slightly disheartened, but not too bothered, she sauntered downstairs and put herself on some toast as she usually did every morning, not even bothering to turn on the light, enjoying the dark.</p><p>Finishing her breakfast, she decided to simply be for a little while. Not a single noise reached her ears, the silence blanketing like the fog, like the dark, like her jacket. She felt at peace, and it lingered.</p><p>Then, a deranged, strained cry. It sounded like something was choking, no, drowning? There was a struggle, a clear struggle. Another cry - it sounded like a baby, one in pain. Michelle tried to look for the source of the sound, when a thump sounded on the door to the hallway. Another drowned scream, a quieter thump and the door creaked open. Michelle, against her better judgement, crept towards it. On the floor, attempting to crawl, was a small, deformed foetus. It lacked facial features, only having an almost beak shaped mouth. It screamed, and it sounded as if it were drowning. It was soaked in blood, it almost looked like a fleshy rag.</p><p>Michelle froze in place at the sight, struggling to comprehend the sight before her.</p><p>It began to drag itself towards her, its little uneven stubs making it stumble and wobble. It made a different noise, rather than a cry it was a shriek, it sounded angry and vengeful. Michelle didn't move. It continued, trying to reach her, but it began to melt. In pooled into a bloody puddle, the white flesh dyed pink then red. The puddle then dried up, disappearing and leaving an odd symbol on the floor. It glowed, and what seemed to be ink swirled and shone. Inching towards it, she stuck out her hand and tried to touch it, but she never did.</p><p>Everything went black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Scattered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I give to you unreservedly</em>
</p><p>
  <em>my body and my eternal soul.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whatever darkness may befall me,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will endure with you beside me.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Erin had no idea where she was. Even the markings on the road seemed wrong. It was all cracked, the paint faded and chipped. Even the cars were rusted and falling apart. Every step she took was an uncertain one, she felt as if the floor would collapse in on itself at any moment, that she would be swallowed up by a deep, horrid void. Unable to think of anything else, her mind fixated on the strange woman's words. The dawn of paradise? False deities? Was this a cult ritual she got stirred up in?</p><p>Why did she recognise that woman?</p><p>Were her friends even here?</p><p>Erin's journey had become aimless. The fog made it impossible to tell where she was, and the environment was so different it didn't matter. Nothing was recognisable anymore. It was like she was somewhere else entirely. Still, she felt she had no other choice but to keep moving.</p><p>Eventually, after what felt like hours, she saw a soft light. It was coming from what seemed like an alleyway, up some metallic stairs. Reluctantly, she began to climb them, ignoring the cold that began to sting her. Reaching the door, rusted and damaged, she looked up to see a neon sign above. It said, "Heaven's Night".</p><p> </p><p>□□○○□□</p><p>The hotel's corridors had stopped making sense to James a while ago, corners and turns in places that they logically shouldn't be. He was starting to think the figure in front of him, who appeared to be Orla, was leading him in circles. It was so weird, and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a dream. They looked like his friends but didn't speak, didn't look at him, barely acknowledged his presence. But they were leading him somewhere, and he didn't really have any other options. Her walking had gotten more and more frantic, and James began to struggle behind. Eventually, though, she stopped at a specific door. She stood facing it, and for the first time James was allowed to approach her. He was only a couple metres away when she turned her head to face him, and he stopped in his tracks. Of course, they didn't speak to him. Of course, they turned away from him. There was nothing there.</p><p>And she was gone now, too.</p><p>The door didn't seem any different from the others, but now at the centre of a labyrinth, he really had no other choice. As softly as he could, he opened the door. He stepped inside, slowly, taking in the room. It was relatively big, enough to fit a small table and chair. There was a window, a sizable windowsill sat below it. He walked further in, but turned at the sound of some shuffling, catching a glimpse of Clare's figure before the door slammed shut. He wanted to go to the door, open it, try and follow her, but instead turned back, to see a new figure, stood in front of the window.</p><p>His mother, Kathy.</p><p>All was still as James stared at the back of her head, unable to do anything except stand there.</p><p>Eventually, she faded, leaving nothing but a note sat on the sill. It said,</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>James</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You don't need to be here. I only needed one. Stay here ‘til the fog clears. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mum</em>
</p><p> </p><p>James stared at it. It generated only more questions. One? One of what - a person? Were his other friends here too? Why was his mum back in Derry? Was she? Or was he hallucinating? He looked out the window. Fog. He tried the door. Locked. He reread the note again.</p><p>This had to be a dream. This had to be fake. He just needed to wake up. He pinched himself. It hurt, but he was still there. He had to try harder.</p><p> </p><p>□□○○□□</p><p> </p><p>Clare took in the room - a strip club, not too fancy, and of course, empty. Everything is empty. Waking up that morning had been perplexing: the odd void of her home; the strange capsule left on her dining table; the fog; the silence only broken by odd noises that she couldn't pinpoint the source of; the decrepit look of everything... it was all a bit much.</p><p>She continued regardless, looking for anything that might be useful. She shuffled behind the bar - they might have a first aid kit. Skimming the shelves, she felt along for anything other than cups in the low light, then moved on to the bar itself. In a cupboard, a small kit with the basics sat close to the front. Taking it, she softly apologised to the owners for stealing it. She slipped back out and then heard an odd gurgle come from the other corner. Looking up, she almost stumbled, audibly gasping - a hulking creature, fleshy and bleeding, stood there. It had no face, and its head seemed underdeveloped, it had a gaping hole in its chest that folded, in between two long breasts. Its legs were strong, and its arms came out into massive claws that threatened to slice Clare in half.</p><p>What the fuck? Why, why, why, why? This shit just keeps getting weirder. Of course, it had to be here, in the ass crack of town, down some alleyway, a <em>strip club </em>of all places, where she would get mauled by a fleshy monster with claws and no face. She just wanted to find help, for crying out loud. Her back touched the far wall, then and there she knew she was done for. She squeezed her eyes shut, begging any higher power to swoop in and help her. Her prayers seemed to be answered, as she heard a sickening squashing noise came from in front of her, then another, and another, all accompanied by a familiar voice.</p><p>"Get the fuck away from her you creep!" Another strike slammed down, this one spraying blood everywhere. Clare hazarded a look - Erin! She struck it again, aiming for the head, and it toppled heavily, sprawling out on the floor with a twisted scream. She dropped the axe and ran over to the other girl, who couldn't help but cry.</p><p>"Clare..." she got out, wrapping her arms round the smaller girl, unable to form any more words.</p><p>They stood like that for a while, both unwilling to move, should the whole world collapse.</p><p> </p><p>□□○○□□</p><p> </p><p>Michelle awoke to a flat, cold concrete floor. Quickly kneeling up, she scanned her environment, though there wasn't much to see. Bare walls, dim lights, nothing of any note. Looking behind her, she saw a chain-link fence, behind it a valve. Above it, she saw that strange symbol again. Just as she noticed it, as if on cue, she felt movement in her stomach. A bit below that, actually - she froze. It stopped and she waited with bated breath, it began again. It felt like something was adjusting itself, turning inside of her. It felt like it should hurt but it didn't. It was smooth, a light pressure, and it was all too much suddenly. Her breathing quickened and she couldn't see anymore, it was all too blurry. Now she was crying, writhing a little, trying to absolve the feeling in her abdomen but it didn't work. She couldn't speak but she wanted to shout and scream and cry, she wanted her friends, her cousin, her mother and father; somebody to pull her out. Never before had she felt like this, never before had she been rendered so helpless, been so overwhelmed but now she couldn't stop crying and wriggling and weakly clawing at herself. Barely able to feel herself shake, though she was quite badly, she dragged herself up to a wall and leant against the cold concrete. It alleviated her disorientation a little bit, but it still turned and twisted inside her.</p><p>After a little while, she managed to steady her breathing, and her thoughts became coherent again.</p><p>'<em>Being like this ain't gonna get me anywhere,' </em>she thought to herself. '<em>I've gotta sort this out somehow, and this ain't how it's gonna happen.</em>'</p><p>It was just as she made her resolve that she noticed movement behind the chain-link fence. She looked up and saw a grotesque figure, head twitching and body convulsing, approach the valve. It turned it in a disjointed, stuttered manner, making this weird grunting noise, almost a laugh as it did so. After a while it seemed to get bored and left, lugging its way back the same way it entered. A muffled siren could be heard, somewhere distant and away.</p><p>There was silence for a little while, then slowly, Michelle felt the wall behind her change - the concrete went soft, and slimy and bloody. She got up and looked back at it - it was fleshy now, almost lumpy, like the inside of a mouth. The floor stayed the same, but it was bloody too. Michelle knew she needed to get out.</p><p> </p><p>□□○○□□</p><p> </p><p>"What do you think that was?" Clare broke a long-kept silence as they scoured the streets, looking for supplies. Neither of them had much to say, and the general goal between the two of them was already clear - find the rest of the group. Among the more medical side of their supplies, Clare found a lead pipe to fight with, just in case they were separated.</p><p>"Seemed like some kind of monster. I found one too, but it was way different. Really long and tall and it-" Erin stopped as a soft glow came into view. They looked at each other, then picked up the pace toward the light. Erin gasped as she tripped, quickly realising she walked into some stairs, wide-set and slightly crooked.</p><p> </p><p>□□○○□□</p><p> </p><p>"This isn't real. This is a dream. This can't be real."</p><p>The room was still bare, layered in dust. Everything was empty, falling apart, abandoned. There was a chair, but he got tired of sitting. He felt numb. Nobody was there to wake him up. That was what the dagger did. Pinching didn't work. He dragged it across the palm of his hand, again, again, again, again, drawing blood and causing his hand to seethe with pain. He took it, however. This wasn't a dream. He knew it but drew another cut. This had to be a dream.<br/>He got up, hazarding a look out the window. Still fog.</p><p>Footsteps sounded from outside the door, causing James to stare at it, momentarily forgetting the outside. They stopped right at the door. It began to creak open, and James just stared. Erin poked her head through, looking about, her face softening upon spotting James. She entered the room quickly, followed by Clare, prompting him to stare closer at the two. They stopped a few feet away, noticing his discomfort.</p><p>They had faces.</p><p>He wanted to do something, anything, but couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't move. What if it was another illusion?</p><p>This remained for a little while, until Erin spoke up.</p><p>"What's with the knife, James?"</p><p>He couldn't answer. Not then, anyway. She approached him, reaching toward his hand, gently taking the dagger and placing it on the windowsill. He sighed a little, the pressure of the knife having gotten too much. Clare approached too, hugging him. Erin did the same, James relaxing into it, guiding him back to reality. It was fine. They were real.</p><p> </p><p>○○□□○○</p><p> </p><p>The room was small, and even through apparent age it was clear the walls were blue and silver striped. Everything was so neatly arranged, the bed pushed up on the far wall, the small table beside it, the wardrobe, the desk and bookshelf; it was filled and yet not clustered, even with the layer of dust. Orla didn't remember how she got there, but the girl in front of her was nice. It had been a little while after waking up, and they'd sat in a comfortable silence, Orla on her bed and the girl on a chair nearby. Struggling a little, Orla broke the silence.</p><p>"What's your name?"</p><p>"Alessa." The girl had looked a little startled but recovered quickly. "What's yours?"</p><p>"Orla." She smiled softly; happy she'd made a friend.</p><p>"Orla is a pretty name." Alessa seemed a little more content now, leaning on the back of the chair. "You want to know how you got here, don't you?"</p><p>Orla nodded.</p><p>"I had to take you out of your house. It... got a little dangerous, I think, when the fog came. It wasn't my fault this time. A lady I didn't recognise tried to do the ritual again, and I woke up. I don't think I was supposed to, but I did anyway. She used someone else for it, but I don't remember who. They're here now, and we should find them." Questions bubbled in Orla's mind, but her mouth refused to articulate any of them. Instead, she got up, and Alessa mirrored. As she headed to the door, Alessa tapped her shoulder. She held out a knife to her.</p><p>"I took this from your kitchen on the way out. Monsters show up in the fog, you'll need to protect yourself."</p><p>"You're not coming with me?"</p><p>"I can't. Not like this. I'll be there when you need me. I promise."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Reunited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>As proof of your miraculous power,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>guide our obedient and willing souls</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>to the Road of Paradise, oh, Lord.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We will not give in to the power of</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>temptation as long as we have you</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>in our hearts.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now that the last bandage had been put on his hands, James seemed a little more enthusiastic about leaving the room. Erin opened the door, going to check for anything outside when she realised how different it looked. The walls seemed to be bleeding, for one, and what wasn't bloody was even more run-down than before. She nervously looked back at the other two, who had noticed the walls as well, and they stood there uncomfortably, thoughts rushing through their minds. Eventually, James broke the silence, albeit quietly.</p>
<p>"It doesn't seem like we have a choice."</p>
<p>With that, and with Erin firmly in front, they stepped out into the corridor. A putrid smell, overwhelming and sickening, hit them like a brick. Clare gagged and James, almost reflexively, placed a hand on her back, rubbing it and gently driving her in front of him and behind Erin. Now in a formation, the three slowly made their way through the corridors, Erin keeping a firm eye out in front, James constantly looking back, Clare finally deciding to use the torch she had picked up to light the way.</p>
<p>The walk was fine, and nothing showed up as they had feared they would, though noises kept coming from behind the doors, keeping the three on edge. Finding the staircase, and subsequently the lobby, served as a small wave of relief, though this quickly dissipated as they spotted something in the middle of the room.</p>
<p>A lumpy, grotesque figure, barely a looming shadow. Clare had switched off her torch in a panic, so it barely stood out against the pale glow of the outside. Its limbs were long and lanky, in contrast to its more curvy, feminine body. The complete absence of a head made them wonder if it was even alive, though its laboured breathing suggested it was. None of the group even dared to whisper as if through some disaster it would hear them. Erin, eventually, quietly readied her axe and Clare wanted to scream. Instead, she settled on letting herself cry quietly, shuffling towards James, watching her best friend walk towards her death sentence. James couldn't move either, pathetically paralysed in the presence of something actually dangerous. He felt Clare up against him and begged himself to move to comfort her, but he could barely twitch his hand. Erin stalked up to it, every step becoming more uncertain. All while attempting to supress her shaking, she lifted her axe to the creature, aiming somewhere in the chest. It came down heavy, and it made a sort of wheezing noise, as if its lungs deflated. An arm blindly swung in her direction, the other trying too, but neither hit - hastily she struck again, and again, and again - odd thick blood splattered everywhere, and she kept going, energy picking up as she did. It had long stopped moving before she did, and as she eventually stepped back, registering what she did, she ached again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>○○□□○○</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>This asshole is so fucking annoying' </em>Michelle thought, walking over another squelchy, chain-link bridge. She had no idea where she was, and frankly she didn't care - this horrid creature had been taunting her, torturing figures and other things through fences and windows. It seemed to laugh, too. She thought maybe it was luring her someplace. Eventually, though, there was a dead end, a beam of light shining down through a hole in the ceiling. The figure was there, and she could see it more clearly. It had an apron on, and its head, though still twitchy, was leathery and blank. It hadn't noticed her, and so she took her chance. She crept towards him, every step assessed and adjusted... she grabbed him, and he screamed, she buried his knee into his spine, she slammed him into the concrete floor over and over, fighting his struggles and screams.</p>
<p>Just like that it stopped. He went limp. She threw him to the floor, using her boot to grind on his neck. Eventually his head detached, and she kicked it away. The last of the frustration gone, she turned her attention to a valve that was nearby. Sick of the smell, the slimy terrible feeling of everything, she went up to it and turned it, and kept turning it. She was suddenly aware of the turning in her abdomen again, but she gritted her teeth and kept turning until it couldn't turn anymore, hearing the siren again, louder this time. Taking a few steps back, she started to feel nauseous, the rubbing on her insides making her grasp out - her hand hit a ladder, which lead up the hole. She looked up at it and didn't see much, but it was so, so much better than down there.</p>
<p>Having climbed it, she found herself in the middle of an old, derelict road. The air was fresh, and that lingering smell wasn't out here. She sat for a moment before getting up. She had to find someone else.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>○○□□○○</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Orla was finally wobbling out in the road. The streets dizzied her, the fog serving as a blindfold. Alessa had told to her to wait until the siren stopped to open the front door. As she walked out, she really understood how far away from home she was. Not recognising her surroundings at all, she was forced to guess which way to go. Alessa had told her to head towards the church, but she had no idea which way it was.</p>
<p>Aimlessly wandering, she hadn't encountered anything dangerous, not like what Alessa warned about. She remained weary, though, using her limited visibility to keep an eye out for assailants.</p>
<p>After a while, Orla had to stop. Everything was far too overwhelming, she felt as if she couldn't breathe anymore. She collapsed against a wall, barely willing to keep her eyes open; they hurt, and she wept.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>○○□□○○</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The three sat in the hotel lobby, trying to collect themselves. It was still dim, the walls still peeling and bloody. The more they looked at it, as little as they wanted to, they appeared to pulsate like a heart, and they could hear an odd squishy pumping noise. Regrettably, none of them could think of much to say, to take away from the sickening noise that surrounded them. They insisted on touching as they sat, neatly lined up on an old sofa seat, Clare safely tucked in the middle. Erin and Clare held hands; Clare had her other arm linked with James'. Perhaps they did this for the illusion of safety; maybe out of the fear that should they let go, they would be left alone again; or feeling the responsibility to protect the others, lest they get hurt.</p>
<p>Of course, when a siren rang through the building - pure terror as the three squashed together suddenly, before relaxing to the loud whining sound; understanding they weren't in immediate danger. They still stuck to each other somewhat, Erin holding James' arm across Clare, who maybe minded it less than she would normally. It was her who noticed first, in the absence of the sickly blood-pumping noise, that the walls were back to normal - she gasped a little, not really able to say anything as she got the others' attention. As they noticed too, the light in the hotel managed to brighten a little as everything shifted back to the foggy blanket it had been before. They stared at the windows, at the doors, wondering whether to go left or right.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>○○□□○○</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The streets, though just as repetitive and bland as the tunnels, felt refreshing to Michelle. Of course, she was still distraught, and the uncomfortable feelings from her abdomen were still very much there, but they were almost manageable. Walking with purpose, she kept a confident, back straight, head forward and dead-set pose. She was gripping onto normality by a thread, she knew, but it was the only thing stopping her from spiralling back down to when she first awoke.</p>
<p>Of course, she hadn't a clue where she was going, completely following her gut - and, as it sometimes does, this decision proved fruitful. As she walked another stretch of pavement, a shape formed against a small garden wall. Slowing, she attempted to make it out. It was like a sack, left piled in a corner. As she noticed a full head of curly, thick hair, she gasped a little as she recognised the girl in front of her. Against all odds, she thought, she found a friend.</p>
<p>Jogging up to her, she cautiously placed her hands down on the girl, who jumped and stared up at her. Michelle felt a fresh wave of relief as the round puppy eyes of Orla gazed at her, and as she pounced on her, all she could do was smile and accept the excited hug.</p>
<p>After a while, they parted, and the questions started.</p>
<p>"Where the hell are we?" Michelle asked. Orla hesitated a bit.</p>
<p>"The girl I talked to earlier called it the Fog World. Sounds right to me..."</p>
<p>"Wait, what girl? Who else is here?"</p>
<p>"Alessa! She took me out of my room 'cause it was dangerous in there. 'Cause of the fog."</p>
<p>Michelle contemplated this for a moment. None of this made sense - a fog world, Alessa? That weird symbol on the floor, the odd feelings in her stomach? Just as that crossed her mind, she felt it move again, almost as if on command, and she flinched a little.</p>
<p>"Michelle? Are you hurt?" Orla said, trying to catch her eye again.</p>
<p>"It's nothing, Orla. Don't worry about it."</p>
<p>"Why'd you flinch then?" Damn her selective attention to detail.</p>
<p>"I just... this morning I started getting odd feelings in my stomach," she confessed, "I don't know where it came from, but I can barely handle it."</p>
<p>It went quiet. Neither spoke for a while, and Orla was clearly deep in thought.</p>
<p>"Alessa said something about a ritual," Orla suggested, "so maybe it's because of that."</p>
<p>"It... could be," Michelle said. "We should go find the rest of our group. They've got to be here, that's how shit works around here." With this resolve, she stood up suddenly, Orla scrambling up with her, both looking down the direction Michelle was heading, though this was somewhat redundant, because there was nothing but a thick wall of fog.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>○○□□○○</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though they had decided to go left, the three hadn't considered the giant chain-link fence that blocked that road, nor had they spotted it. Instead, they had to retrace their steps, returning down the road they came from. Much like before, it felt like a labyrinth, with paths that lead to dead ends and new buildings they'd never seen before. Some were distinctly American in their look, which just made everything seem so much more surreal. Again, James felt that dizzying dream feeling he'd felt before, the urge to escape from it rising again. This time, though, he fought it off, pushing it away.</p>
<p>The group stuck together like glue, Clare clutching Erin's arm and Erin holding James' hand. James had temporary responsibility over the axe, being the least fatigued of the three. They stuck in the middle of the road, across as a three, looking out for anything familiar. Even when they were together, the blanket of mist was imposing, aggressive, and overwhelming. Just as they were starting to slow, the spotted something, two vague figures in the mist.</p>
<p>They froze, James especially, watching as the two figures came closer, and closer... then one took off running, the other stumbling behind - Erin, in that moment, had never been happier to be charged at as her cousin launched herself at her. The other two managed to let go just in time to avoid being toppled over, Clare gasping as she jumped to the side. Michelle followed swiftly after, gliding over to Clare and resting an arm over her shoulder. The cousins got up from their pile and the other three found themselves in a badly co-ordinated group hug, clutching onto each other desperately.</p>
<p>When they'd finally calmed down a little, they started to figure out what to do now. Erin brought up the strange woman that spoke to her, and Orla said about Alessa, and about the ritual she talked about, and the "someone else" she used for it. Eventually they settled on the church. None of them really knew where it was, or how to get to it, but it was a goal, so they stuck with it.</p>
<p>As they walked, Orla remarked on the lack of monsters.</p>
<p>"You've seen them too?" Erin asked, a bit apprehensive at the idea of her cousin having to see those grotesque figures.</p>
<p>"No, but Alessa told me to look out for them."</p>
<p>They fell silent again. That happened too much, Michelle thought, dreading her own thoughts. The odd feelings in her abdomen returned, though this time she didn't react. As much as she wanted to complain about it, it felt like something was blocking her from doing so. Telling Orla had been so difficult, and she barely described it at all. This was torture.</p>
<p>They carried on, taking turns and retracing when they found nothing at the end of them. It almost felt like they were looping, but nothing seemed familiar. They kept going, even if it was difficult, suck on the thin hope that they could do something about this, about the Fog World and the ritual.</p>
<p>"We're gonna fuckin' die here!" Clare's voice was loud and panicked and shaking. She'd slowed down a little bit, and Michelle felt her squeeze her hand before stopping completely.</p>
<p>"We're not gonna die, Clare," Michelle said reflexively, turning toward the quivering girl.</p>
<p>"We are! We're stuck in this stupid misty hell with no sense of direction! No idea where we're going! It's all falling apart! <em>We are going to die!</em>" She was on the brink of tears now, struggling to keep her breath steady. The rest of the group glanced at each other, before James reluctantly started rifling through his pocket, reaching for the note from before. He had wanted to avoid thinking about the implications of what he'd seen, but he supposed it was inevitable. If they were right, that the church was where a ritual was happening, then, as much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew exactly who they'd find there. He took it out, unfolding and re-reading it as he approached Clare, who had since fallen to her knees. Sitting next to her, he spoke quietly into her ear.</p>
<p>"Clare, listen - we won't die. I didn't want to bring this up, but I got given this earlier." He showed her the note, and through her tears, she read it, then looked at him in shock.</p>
<p>"Y- your mam? She...?" Reluctantly, James nodded.</p>
<p>"It's her handwriting and everything. If you can read it, it's got to be real." He was confirming to himself, more than anyone else. "Even if we can't stop the ritual, the fog will go away eventually."</p>
<p>He got up, helping Clare up too - the rest of the group had been watching them, clearly confused. Before any of them could say anything, James spoke.</p>
<p>"I... didn't want to say anything but... my mum might have been the one who did this. She left me a note." he held out the piece of paper.</p>
<p>"That bitch! Where is she?" Michelle demanded, exploding in anger. "I'll fucking kill her!" James sighed, and Erin spoke up for him.</p>
<p>"Probably the church, since it's been mentioned so much," she said, giving Michelle a half-glare, which she didn’t pay mind to.</p>
<p>"Let's get a move on then!"</p>
<p>She marched off in the direction they had been heading, Erin jogging to catch up with her while Orla, James and Clare paced behind. Eventually, they found a row of flats. They ran along them, hoping to find the end soon. The ground was chipped and cracked, with a few holes littering them - it was only natural that Michelle would trip and fall. Though she didn't hit the floor, instead getting caught in someone's arms. They pushed her upright and she got a decent look at their face. It was a girl about their age, with dark brown eyes and brown hair swept to her right. The mystery of who she was didn't last long, however, as Orla called out in excitement.</p>
<p>"Alessa!"</p>
<p>In response, she smiled up at the approaching group.</p>
<p>"I finally found you again, Orla! I'm sorry I was gone so long," she said, reaching out and taking her hand, still gently holding onto Michelle. "I know you're all looking for the church, and I forgot to say where it was. Things keep shifting around a bit but-" she looked to her left, and everyone followed her gaze, "-through that gap, you can pass through my old school, Midwich. It's not supposed to be there, like most things right now, but if you get through there, the church will be on the other side. I can't come with you, but I'll meet you there."</p>
<p>She squeezed Orla's hand, then turned and ran back the way she came, fading into the fog.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Oh, Lord,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>save us with your compassion.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, Lord,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>shower us with your blessings.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, Lord,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>favor us with your abundance.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The inside of the school was unremarkable, if a bit dark. Michelle, in her impatience, had already stormed through the double doors into the hallways, and Erin hastily followed. The rest took a slower approach, looking at the plain walls and scratchy floors as they walked. Clare pushed at the doors at the end but stumbled as a loud crash sounded - the very walls shook, and the noise continued, rumbling as something collapsed. Orla covered her ears tightly with her hands, running away from the noise and pushing herself into a corner. James fumbled and followed her, using the faint glow of Clare's torch to make out her shaking outline. The crashing finally stopped and only the falling of paint chips and dust could be heard as the collapse settled.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Clare pushed through the doors once more, heading right, towards the source of the noise. It was apparent that a roof had collapsed in some halfway down the corridor. As she edged towards it, the dust got in her throat and sent her into a coughing fit. It was then she heard a shout - Michelle!</p><p>"We can't see shit over here!"</p><p>"Are you, like, <em>okay</em>?" Clare fretted, her voice a little hoarse from the dust.</p><p>"Yeah, but we can't go anywhere, it's too dark," Erin yelled. "You'll have to find another way around!"</p><p>Just then, James and Orla pushed through the doors, introducing new light into the corridor.</p><p>"We found another torch!" Orla declared, grinning.</p><p>"Are they okay?" James asked, eyeing the rubble nervously.</p><p>"Yeah, but we've got to find a way round to them," Clare said. She turned to the rubble and yelled, "we're going now!"</p><p>"Make it quick!" Michelle snapped back. The three hurried back into the initial corridor, coming to a stop at the doors to the courtyard. A lot of overgrown plant life cluttered it and hacking through would take a while. On the left side of the corridor, however, was another route around. Smoother, sure, but uncertain; it mightn’t even go round to where they needed to go. After some discussion, they decided to split. James would go down the left corridor and Orla would hack through the courtyard, aided by Clare.</p><p> </p><p>○○□□○○</p><p> </p><p>Michelle and Erin sat in the lurking dark, occasionally coughing as dust floated around them, leaving an odd musky smell. Everything had happened so quickly, and neither had processed it until now. The silence remained unbroken for some time, the black bathing the eyes like lukewarm water. Then, through the silence, came a low whimper. Erin strained, and she heard another. At first, she thought, perhaps there was something in the shadows, and she looked about to little avail. The whimpering got louder, and there was some shuffling, from right in front of her. Where Michelle was. It couldn't be her, could it? Michelle never cried. And yet, as she heard a louder moan of distress, she knew something was up.</p><p>"Michelle?" She kept her voice low. "What's going on?"</p><p>"N... nothing," Michelle said, her voice clearly strained.</p><p>"That's bullshit! What's wrong?" Getting impatient, she began feeling around, slowly creeping towards her, leaning on bits of rubble. It was rough against her fingers, bumpy and confusing, but it worked. In her limited sight, she could see Michelle now - she was writhing slightly, eyes squeezed shut. Reaching out, Erin barely brushed her knee when she let out a gasp. Trying again, she found a hand and took it, kneeling on the debris-covered floor in front of her. She guided Michelle forward, and let her rest her head on her shoulder. Feeling her shake, she wrapped her arms round her shoulders, speaking as softly as she could.</p><p>"What's going on, Michelle?"</p><p>At first, there was no reply. Her breathing was heavy, and Erin could feel how hard her heart was beating. Eventually, she mustered enough strength to speak.</p><p>"There's something... inside me. It moves around and I can feel it. It's starting to hurt."</p><p>Erin felt a wash of anxiety as possibilities began to flood her mind, though one stood out. The 'rebirth of god' wasn't meant to be literal, was it? Then again, right there...</p><p> </p><p>○○□□○○</p><p> </p><p>So far, Orla had been quite successful in chopping down the overgrowth, but Clare insisted she take a break. Their silence was much more comfortable, the two even appreciating the feel of the cold, light mist against their skin. It was still dark, of course, but the other's presence made it far less scary.</p><p>"I wonder how James is gettin' on," Orla mused.</p><p>"He should be fine," said Clare, "I was nervous about him going on his own, after finding out about his mam. When we found him in the hotel, he… wasn’t doing so great.”</p><p>“What, was he sick?” Childlike worry arose on Orla’s face. Clare hesitated – she didn’t want to have to explain what was happening to Orla. It was an instinctual need to protect her innocence, something the whole group seemed to share, even knowing she wasn’t as pure as she appeared to be. Still, babying her wasn’t going to do much good, and she deserved to know just as much as the rest of the group.</p><p>“No, he was… There were cuts all over his hands.”</p><p>“He was attacked?”</p><p>“N-no. It was…” Clare sighed. Why was this so damn difficult? “He was doing it to himself, Orla.”</p><p>“Why? That doesn’t make any sense!”</p><p>“I don’t know. Maybe he thinks he deserves it, or something. He didn’t tell us.”</p><p>They both stayed silent for a little while, as Orla tried to work it out in her head. She started digging at the ground with her shoe, annoyed that she wasn’t getting anywhere. Why <em>would</em> James hurt himself? It didn’t make sense to her, and she was upset about it.</p><p>She jumped back up and started chopping away again, even more determined than before. Clare stumbled up after her, pulling away the loose branches as she had been, keeping a little further distance as Orla swung more wildly. Eventually they reached the door, pushing it open and revealing a second set of doors just opposite. Instead of heading right, Orla went to the left, saying something about ‘asking him personally’, not giving Clare time to protest as she ran off into the dark.</p><p> </p><p>○○□□○○</p><p> </p><p>The bathroom tiles were faded, dirtied, and now spattered in fresh blood. It was proving sharp, the dagger, sharper than anything else he'd ever held. Even through the haze on the mirror, James could see the blood gushing from his mouth. It only took a single slice of his tongue, and he still couldn't be quite sure why he did it. He knew it wasn't their fault they got separated again, but he still felt hurt, nonetheless. The others got to pair up, why didn't he? Even if he'd presented the idea of splitting off on his own, he was still upset about it actually happening. Maybe he'd hoped they'd fight the idea some more. Deciding to leave his tongue alone, he decided to play with the dagger instead, dragging it across his hands, mostly the backs, letting the blood drip off without mind. He could have sworn Erin took the dagger off him back at the hotel, but he had it now, and that's all he cared about in that moment.</p><p>He moved down to the sides of his arms instead, leaving uncertain lines down them - he'd ditched his jacket when he entered. Even while preoccupied, he couldn't help but feel guilty. Clare and Orla were actually trying, meanwhile he just cowered away and made himself more useless. It’s not like he was left in complete darkness, like at the hotel - he <em>had</em> a light. Still, it overwhelmed him, and he backed into the toilets and started tearing himself apart. The cutting thing wasn't normal for him at all, though he supposed everything else wasn't either. Everything felt woolly, and at first the knife had rid of that feeling. Now, not so much. He remained numb. Maybe the others felt it too? Even if they did, they were strong enough to dismiss it. The mirror was still fogged up. He went to the far end and slid down the wall, letting himself close his eyes for the first time in hours. Exhaustion dizzied him, but something gripped him into consciousness. He hated it.</p><p>The door swung open, but James refused to move, not even opening his eyes. Whatever it was let the door close again before approaching, not slowly but slow enough. He felt a hand take his, another prying the dagger from it. They then shuffled to his left, sitting next to him on the floor. An arm took him round the back and guided him closer to them, and he felt fluffy, curly hair brush his face as he leant into their shoulder.</p><p>It was only Orla.</p><p>She didn't say anything, but the silence parted to pick up her breathing. He moved an arm loosely behind her back. They stayed like that for a little while.</p><p>"I'm sorry." It was barely a whisper, but James had another sudden wash of guilt. "This is my fault, and I'm not even helping."</p><p>"It's got nothing to do with you, James." She copied his quiet voice, hugging him a little tighter as she did so. A wave of tears threatened to spill from James' eyes, and he let them, the first proper feeling he'd had since this began burst in his chest. As he cried, she wiped away the blood that had been gushing from his mouth with her sleeve.<br/>“Why were you hurting yourself, James?” A simple question, but a pit formed in his stomach as he tried to rationalise his own actions. At first, he said nothing, and Orla let him.</p><p>“I thought I was dreaming, at first, and I was trying to wake myself up. But it didn’t work. I just kept going, and then I couldn’t stop, and…” he gave up trying to speak as he started crying again.</p><p> </p><p>○○□□○○</p><p> </p><p>"You found him!" Clare's voice was oddly enthusiastic as they convened back in the corridor. It took a more sombre tone as she continued. "We may have figured out what that ritual is."</p><p>Behind her, the saw Michelle leaning quite heavily on Erin. More worrying, however, was the red marks that had begun to appear on her skin.</p><p>"You can explain on the way to the church." James led the way out of the first set of back doors, then the second, onto the oddly built path out the back.</p><p>They half walked, half jogged down the cobbled path, new and strange as things usually were now. Grass poked in and weeds grew through the cracks, and through the thick fog the view of a much more familiar church came into view, though it was much worse for wear. As they walked, Clare talked at top speed trying to explain everything. In short - Michelle had been impregnated with a cult’s god and it was starting to find its way out.</p><p>The group rushed up the stairs of the church, Orla and James working together to push the heavy doors open, letting Erin and Clare carry Michelle inside. Before them, their suspicions were affirmed. Kathy stood, much like she did when she spoke to Erin, right at the altar. At the bottom of the steps stood Alessa, looking even paler in the white light of the church than she had before. Both noticed the group enter, Alessa's exclamation overshadowed by Kathy's much louder greeting.</p><p>"I thought you'd never make it here," she said, her voice much deeper than they remembered. "Just in time, too. Do bring her forward."</p><p>"What? No! Stop it!" Erin demanded, making Kathy raise her eyebrows.</p><p>"Why? You're about to witness something beautiful, Erin."</p><p>"You're hurting Michelle! That's not beautiful!" Erin retorted, her voice beginning to shake. As if on cue, the girl in question fell to her knees, slipping out of Clare's grip. Orla followed her down, doing her best to comfort the distressed girl.</p><p>"Suffering is simply a side effect of the ritual. It will prove worth every second, I assure you."</p><p>"That's fucking bullshit, Kathy. If you really thought that you would have used yourself," Erin said.</p><p>Michelle, in her compromised state, began moaning again, the marks across her skin getting bolder. She clutched her stomach and cried out, And Erin ran back to Michelle, joining her cousin in trying to calm her down. Briefly glancing around for James, she turned her attention to Alessa as she cried out.</p><p>"Use the aglaophotis! The red stuff I left on your table!" They looked a wildly at each other for a second, before Clare gasped and rummaged inside her pocket. She produced a small red capsule, and leant over to Michelle, placing it into the girl's mouth, telling her to swallow it. She did, and they stared back up at Kathy as she screamed at them to stop, but she couldn't move. Alessa stood behind her, hand held out in front of her, a panicked look on her face.</p><p>Michelle began to retch and gag, doubling over and coughing. Orla rubbed her back as she began vomiting, swaying and rocking as whatever had taken residence in her stomach was forced out. It fell out of her mouth, a convulsing, wriggling red thing that stank of bile and rot. Michelle cowered away from it, Orla following her, while Erin and Clare could only stare at it. Kathy stood there in shock, despite Alessa having let her out of her grip.</p><p>After a few moments, Erin felt control of her muscles come back, and she approached the cursed foetus, ready to stamp on it, when she spotted Kathy charging at her out of the corner of her eye. She never reached her, however, as something caught up to her first - looking up properly, she saw a blade poking through Kathy's throat. It lingered for a little while, the sound of Kathy's gargling echoing a little in absence of any other sound. It then slipped out, and her body was thrown aside, falling over some pews.</p><p>The only one left occupying that space, then, was James, who was staring at the floor intensely. The knife clattered as he dropped it, his bloody hands shaking, his breathing uneven. Nobody could bring themselves to speak, or even move, until Erin stepped up yet again, this time stamping on the creature, many, many times. All that was left was clumpy bits of blood and flesh, burst on the old, worn floorboards.</p><p>Alessa, quietly and gracefully, walked up behind James, gently placing a hand on his arm. He barely reacted, only twitching a little, but this was enough for her. Carefully, she spoke.</p><p>"Thank you. All of you. There's nothing I can offer you in return for the sacrifices you've all made today but know that from now on, you're safe. As much as it may be difficult to believe right now, everything is going to be fine." With that, she left the group, fading into the darkness.</p><p>As she did so, light began shining strongly through the windows, clearing their vision. Around them, the church returned to its usual look, the dilapidated version fading away into its younger self. This meant, though, that the group, and all the blood, and the knife, and the body, all stuck out against the clean of the hall. Nobody said anything, but Michelle slowly got up, wobbling a bit as she approached her cousin, gently falling into a hug with him, which he reciprocated, starting to relax a little at the contact with his cousin. Orla edged towards Erin, leaning up against her, and beckoned Clare over. The three stood close, not really focussing on much, trying to avoid the horrid scene that they still faced. Time seemed to have stopped, at least for a little bit. Though the tweets of birds found themselves echoing into the halls with them, the gentle swaying of trees, the distant sound of cars. It was as if nothing had happened at all, at least not out there. The world still turned as it always did, and people had been continuing their lives, bathed in the clear sunlight that they relied on, day in, day out.</p><p>This serenity couldn't last forever, as eventually the doors swung open. They faced Sister Michael, and they had waited with bated breath for her reaction, which was quiet and weirdly understanding. She'd ushered them into a side-room, promising them, in an uncharacteristically soft tone, that they weren't in any trouble. A few more people had entered the church and soon after the group was taken, by a rather tired-looking, but kindly girl, no older than twenty, to a hospital, where they were led in through the back. There, they met Michelle's mother, who was, like Sister Michael, uncharacteristically reassuring and soft. She checked over each of them with a comforting tenderness, giving them bandages for wounds, some of which they hadn't noticed while wrapped up in the events of that morning. Eventually, parents arrived, and the five were doted over even more, supplied with a fresh change of clothes. How much they knew was never discussed, but it was enough that the group was given time to adjust.</p><p>Alessa didn't lie. It was going to be okay.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>With how quickly I posted this, it might be difficult to believe how long this took to write. I don't have the exact date, but it's been a little under two months, if I've guessed correctly. All written on the notes app on my phone, a decent chunk while sat in a field. This is the first multi-chapter fic I've ever completed, and in comparison, 10k words doesn't seem like much, but I'm really proud of myself, so hey, that's what counts, right?<br/>Anyway, we're done now, go listen to Promise like I did when I finished this. </p><p>Also, if you've read this without knowing about Silent Hill, go watch a walkthrough of it. First 3 games. Very good stories, far better than mine. The references will make sense.<br/>Also, if you've read this without knowing about Derry Girls, go watch it! It's really funny. Totally different tone to this fic.</p><p>I hope you enjoyed reading! &lt;3</p>
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